


Strange You Never Knew

by she_who_the_river_could_not_hold



Series: Fics for t100 Fic for BLM Initiative [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Clarke pov, F/M, Feelings Callout, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Pining, Season 4 divergence, Secret love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27862333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold/pseuds/she_who_the_river_could_not_hold
Summary: Against the potential end of the world, Bellamy’s offhand comment about his experience at Mount Weather distracts Clarke more than it should. For once though, she gathers her courage and they have a real conversation about it. Feelings bubble to the surface, exposing what they both feel towards each other. With the encroaching apocalypse, they struggle to find a balance between their emotions and trying to save their people. Now that she knows the truth about how Bellamy feels about her though, Clarke will do anything to ensure they get through this together.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Fics for t100 Fic for BLM Initiative [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069367
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100
Collections: t100fic4blm Donation Celebration





	Strange You Never Knew

**Author's Note:**

> _~comes in three years later with an iced coffee~_ who’s ready for a season 4 rewrite?
> 
> To celebrate the t100 Fic for BLM Initiative raising over $2.5k by the series finale (we've now raised $4k!), the team is hosting a celebration! If you're new, t100 Fic for BLM Initiative is an initiative where writers and content creators are accepting prompts for donations that help support the BLM cause. If you want to learn more about it, you can check out the carrd for it [here](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/)! The process for this celebration is similar to that from the Chopped Challenges and Bellarke Big Bang in our fandom as well, so we all chose from a set of voted-on themes and tropes to base our fics on. 
> 
> For my theme I’ve chosen “Canonverse,” and my four tropes are (1) oblivious pining (2) secret love (3) feelings callout and (4) hurt/comfort. Playing off of the hurt/comfort, this is definitely my attempt at diving into Clarke’s mindset about Bellamy and what held her back from him in the show (but then equally how easy it would have been to have them become canon at the same time). As much as this isn’t really a fluffy fic, I really found a lot of catharsis in making it feel as canon as possible while still getting them to where I wanted. Some of the canon timelines are also kind of fuzzy but you know… AU life. On Tumblr, you can find an [AMAZING edit for this fic](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.tumblr.com/post/636505112306761728/strange-you-never-knew-a-bellarke-season-4-canon/) made by @poppykru over there, please make sure to take a look at it if you get the chance! I hope you like it and thanks for checking it out!
> 
> Title from “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star.

_ “Hey, try doing that upside down.” _

That had been Bellamy’s attempt at assuaging her fears before she took the chip. Clarke knew realistically, that it had been made in good faith to her. His attempt at his usual smirk had been a bit off and she’d been able to muster a semblance of a smile back at him as a way of thanks. They both knew what it had meant. 

Successfully stopping A.L.I.E. from taking over everyone’s minds with the chip was a victory marred by her new knowledge about the end of the world. It changed everything. Everything they'd been fighting for and everything they’d been fighting against. It put a new perspective on the spiral of violence they’d fallen into and how meaningless that was. How could there be fighting amongst people when only death plagued their future?

But despite the magnitude of all of that, of everything she learned, there was something much smaller that was still bothering Clarke. A sentence that had clung to the recesses of her mind.

Bellamy’s comment.

Despite the sensation of Echo’s blade still at her throat, the impending nausea at the new information she held about the fate of the world… Clarke’s attention kept drifting to Bellamy.

They were in the rover on the way back to Arkadia, leaving behind her mom and Kane in Polis. He was drumming his fingers against his thigh while he kept one hand on the steering wheel. His confidence in driving belied the limited time he’d been doing it, almost as if he’d grown up on Earth. He seemed completely at ease, at least for himself.

She couldn’t figure out how.

He’d called her ‘princess’ like he’d used to. She’d thanked him for protecting her, struggling as always to truly convey how thankful she was for him, and he’d accepted it like normal (which for him meant reluctantly).

It was all supposed to be normal and to him, it seemed like it was. But she felt rattled. The initial bravado she’d felt as they’d left, the two of them walking out in stride together, was leaving her body. A weariness was beginning to settle into her bones. An exhaustion of knowing what all was to come. 

XXX

Any other day would have felt ordinary. An overcast day at Arkadia, tucked away against the mountains. The hum of life thrumming as everyone went about their business.

But it wasn’t all as usual and for the few select people that Clarke had clued in, everything was moving differently. Tension wouldn’t leave as she pushed herself forward, doing her best to singularly focus on the tasks at hand: saving as many people as they could. She didn’t blame Bellamy for the decision he had made in the Ice Nation. She could never blame him for making a call like that, even if it had complicated how things were going to go. At one point in their history, their people had made it work on the Ark. They’d be able to do the same here on Earth.

“Two meals a day for people working as hard as ours, we won’t make any friends,” Bellamy’s voice interjected Clarke’s own inner motivational speech to herself.

She sighed, pulling the cart she had pushing in front of her to a stop. Around them, sparks flew and lights flashed as Raven continued working –– as if they weren’t there. Her usual attitude since Bellamy had returned empty handed of tech, but with people.

“Well,” she responded as confidently as she could, “if there’s one thing our people understand, it’s rationing. Besides, once we close those doors, it’ll be one meal a day for the next five years.” 

Her brain spun as she did the math in her head, passing along the rations to the shelf in tandem with Bellamy. 

It was that statement that made Raven pause what she was doing, the machinery coming to a grinding halt as she turned to look at the two of them. Her raised welding mask let them see how fed up she was, her expression pointed as it flicked between them. 

“Try one meal every other day.”

Bellamy and Clarke’s gaze moved up towards Raven as she continued. 

“Hunting parties are coming back with less and less.” The tension in Raven's face eased briefly. “Thanks to your friend Niylah, we’re preserving more meat than ever… but it’s still not enough. Without a way to make water, growing our own protein like we did on theArk is not an option.” 

There was only a slight pause before her steady gaze switched from Bellamy to Clarke, her nostrils flaring as she looked at him.

“Remember that when we’re starving.”

Something heavy pulsed in Clarke’s chest. She was used to when she and Raven argued, two matches always ready to ignite. But watching the way she’d berated Bellamy for his choice stung her more personally than when Raven targeted Clarke. She knew that she struggled with balancing responsibility for humanity and individuals; the fact that Bellamy led with his heart was why he balanced her out so well. It didn’t help anyone to not have someone thinking like that in their decision-making. 

Her internal, protective monologue was broken off though by the roughness of Bellamy’s voice as he replied to Raven.

“I won't be starving because I won’t be inside.”

It was like someone had dropped freezing cold water into Clarke’s veins. The resignation in Bellamy’s voice hurtled her into action before she’d even processed all of her thoughts to his declaration, dropping the supplies and moving to get closer to him.

“Yes, you will,” she blurted out emphatically. She could see a flash of frustration in his eyes as she stared him down, but she wouldn’t back away from this.

Raven’s voice was what brought her back though, cutting through the haze of denial she’d sunken into. 

“Does that mean you made the list?” Apprehension and curiosity cloaked her tone as she looked wide-eyed at Clarke. Who on her end, was distracted by Bellamy turning away from her and his refusal to keep eye contact with her. 

Clarke struggled with what to say next, her gut instinct to keep honing in on Bellamy. How dare he think he wouldn’t be surviving this. How dare he think in any universe she’d let him die in the fiery collapse of the world when he could provide so much for humanity.

“No,” she finally said, looking back at the cart in front of her. “What about drinking water?” 

Clarke looked back up at Bellamy, who was still refusing to look at her. She mentally challenged him to do it, to look her in the eyes and repeat what he’d said. 

Raven was never one to fall for her bullshit though and she saw through her panicked attempt to divert the conversation. 

“Clarke, don’t change the subject.” 

She felt Raven’s presence invade her personal space and she dragged her eyes from Bellamy’s stiff back to face her.

“We need to know who’s gonna be on the inside of these doors when the radiation comes,” Raven said, her voice low and urgent. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke caught Bellamy’s movement towards the door. 

“We don’t need to know now,” she hissed, quickly hurrying after him. Damn whatever Raven was thinking right now, she’d figure it out later. But if she’d thought she needed to talk to Bellamy earlier, then she knew she had to do it now.

She followed him quickly, slipping into a light jog in order to make up for the distance covered between the difference in their length of stride. Even though he was moving at a determined pace though, she was able to catch up to him eventually. She reached out and tugged on his arm, pulling him to a stop.

They each glanced around them before looking back at each other. They were alone.

“Do you care to explain yourself back there?” She asked in a rush.

Bellamy’s jaw clenched. “We are not having this conversation right now.”

She was nearly tearing at her lip with her teeth as she tried to find a way to convince him to open up to her. Too many thoughts whirled through her mind. His statement in Polis had been haunting her since he’d said it, but now she knew his resolve that he wouldn’t be saved during Praimfaya. Neither one was good and neither one was going to stop plaguing her any time soon. She couldn’t let him continue on with this death wish.

But she needed answers on some level. And if he didn’t want to talk about the end of the world, she’d go for the first one.

“Back in Polis,” she slowly began as the heat from her earlier anger subsided, “you mentioned Mount Weather.”

That clearly hadn’t been what he was expecting her to say, confusion crossing his face as he looked down at her. In a way she was glad she’d confused him. Anything to catch him off his guard and not have a perfectly prepared statement. 

“Be honest with me, Bellamy. Can you please tell me what you went through?”

Bellamy let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his face before glancing ruefully at her. “I just don’t see why this is important.”

The shift in his voice gave Clarke a flicker of hope. It was his reluctant voice that he used whenever he was about to give in and do something. Usually it meant some sort of shenanigan from Miller or Jasper and Monty, or Octavia pleading with him for more time on Helios. It felt like a long time since Clarke had genuinely heard it, especially after what they had gone through just recently. But it made her eyes widen as she stepped slightly closer to him.

“It’s important because you keep trying to sacrifice yourself and I’m not going to let you do it. And I know what you went through with Pike was horrible, but as someone who’s also asked you to do dangerous or bad things I need to know what I’ve put you through.”

She hadn’t meant for those to be the words that spilled out. 

She couldn’t imagine Lexa ever asking someone what she’d put them through in her name. Dante certainly never had and she doubted Jaha would either. It probably didn’t help her as a leader, to add to the sins that she carried on her shoulders, but with Bellamy it was different. She had to fully know what she’d put him through. To at least know the truth before the end of the world, to understand how he could think he wasn't worthy of being saved when so often it was someone else helping guide his hand. Herself included.

“It wasn’t hyperbole,” he finally said, looking away from her, “that was what they did. After we were captured, Lincoln and I were separated, taken to these showers of some kind. I didn’t get it at the time –– I guess now we know it was because of the radiation. But afterwards, they first put me in a cage. Then when they tried to take Echo, before I even knew who she was or what she would do, I was reckless and got myself taken out. Which was when they hung me up to drain me of my blood.” 

There was a strain to the way he said the Azgeda woman’s name as he cleared his throat after, and Clarke felt a pang of guilt in her chest. She’d never really known Gina. But she’d overheard mentions of it as she’d unraveled the story of what had happened while she was gone and she knew how it had all gone down.

And how she hadn’t been there.

“Anyway,” Bellamy continued gruffly, “they hung me upside down and I thought I was a goner. I was stripped, nothing on me but needles and tubes to drain my blood. That was when Maya saved me. And I strangled that guard… that father. Lovejoy.”

A more prolonged silence fell between them at the mention of the quiet resistance leader from Mount Weather. At what she represented.

“I have no regrets for what I did to survive that day and I’ll never regret being there for you when it came to pulling the lever. But that was what led to my choices under Pike, which I’ll never forgive myself for. And so now I have to live with that, and now my decision to not take the hydro-generator.” His voice tightened, his eyes going back to avoiding making eye contact with her. “I don’t regret that either. But those are decisions I have to make and live with –– and if I don’t regret them that shows I shouldn’t be there. I don’t have to take up anyone else’s place when it comes to the end. Not after what I’ve done.”

Her stomach turned to lead as he talked. 

His words echoed in her mind and she ached at the familiar feelings that he was stirring in her. Memories of all of the decisions she had made, mirrored with his. 

How many times had she questioned her own position in all of this? 

“None of that matters,” she found herself saying, resolutely moving past those thoughts. “If you need forgiveness––”

He adamantly shook his head, cutting her off and the words died in her mouth. It was clear what she had been about to call back to and his refusal to hear it felt like a sharp fissure in the armor she’d built up around her feelings towards him. 

She tried again, this time with a slightly different tactic.

“You deserve to be included in the final list. I know that.”

“Oh, really? I’d love for you to enlighten me. Tell me, what logical reason is there for my name to make that list?” His voice was steel now, he’d almost never taken this tone with her. Not even when she chose to stay in Polis, forcing his hand and having him turn his back on her. 

She gulped, tasting ash in her mouth as she failed to verbalize her thoughts.

He waited impatiently, his eyes staring straight into her.

She knew he was waiting for her to answer him, to tell him every reason she believed that he deserved to live. She had a million reasons why. His leadership, his passion for their people. His ability to inspire and to direct people, stepping into a role so naturally no one would have guessed at one point he had done it purely out of resentment and fear of being found out for his actions on the Ark.

But so much of her need for him to live was based on a selfish need. A need that insisted in her heart that no matter what, he  _ had _ to live. Simply because he was good and she truly believed that he deserved it. And she couldn’t even tell why he deserved it over other people, but she fully believed it and to confess that to him terrified her.

Because to not have a logical reason for it, to feel that greedy undercurrent that she wanted him to live above anyone else, would involve admitting to something she’d avoided for years. 

She couldn’t bring herself to even admit the words to herself standing alone in the hallway with him this very moment. He looked at her as if he knew she wasn’t brave enough to say anything and it was making her ache, her pulse stinging with disappointment in herself. 

On the heels of what had happened in Polis though, the depth of her motivations to keep him alive remained buried. And when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything, Bellamy’s face became stormy. Defeated. And then he turned on his heel and stalked away from her.

Never since her time on Earth had Clarke felt so much like a coward. 

XXX

“Could you at least please talk with him?”

Clarke was startled out of her swirling thoughts by Raven’s sharp interjection. She looked over at the brunette, who was looking at her with barely-masked frustration. Tension had been running high, courtesy of the end of the world, so Clarke’s initial thought was along the lines of  _ what did I do now? _ Then it hit her what Raven had said.

“I’m sorry, talk with who about what?”

Raven let out a snort. “Bellamy, obviously. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but it’s always obvious when you guys are fighting.”

“We’re not… fighting,” Clarke replied lamely, shifting her weight as she ignored Raven’s pointed expression. 

“Well, whatever it is that’s going on between you two, either talk it out or get over it. There’s too much shit going on and I can’t focus on figuring out how to patch up the Ark if you two are being weird with each other.” The furrow between her brows softened though and she looked down at her feet briefly before adding, “We work best when we’re functioning as a team. I know I’ve been snapping at you guys, but there isn’t time to get distracted by things. We need to all be working together again. We’re not rationing because of a long winter, we’re rationing because we’re about to have to choose who lives and dies.  _ You _ have to choose and you’ll keep putting it off if you’re distracted.”

As always, Raven’s approach to everything was succinct and to the point. She’d said her piece and the two returned to tracking equipment inventory in silence. Clarke marked down another box of bullets as Raven motioned towards it and the two kept moving down the line. Even though Clarke knew she could be a pretty good liar, she couldn’t bring herself to do it now. And she figured Raven didn’t want excuses either way. So she kept quiet as they moved, fully aware of exactly what Raven was talking about. 

Things  _ had _ been different with Bellamy ever since she’d forced him to talk about his time at Mount Weather with her. Since she’d admitted to both of them that she’d asked things of him that had forever impacted him from what it had put them through.

She didn’t regret it –– they had needed to have that conversation. 

But she did hate what it had done to them.

Bellamy wasn’t even mad at her, to his credit. There was just a level of discomfort to what he had admitted and undoubtedly what she  _ hadn’t _ said. Even if he didn’t know everything she’d been thinking, it was clear that there had been an unspoken tension since then. He still hadn’t agreed to her statement about him having a secure spot for safety and she hadn’t been fully honest with him about how she felt about him. And maybe he felt guilty for making her feel guilty; a trait that he’d specifically managed to craft and made her want to tear her hair out. 

The thing was that she did feel guilty. Not just because they were contributing to unnecessary friction during a tough time, but because it was all building up to a horrible realization of what lengths Bellamy would go for her. 

That much responsibility terrified her and she was angry at herself for not realizing it sooner. That it had taken that horror story of his experience to jolt her awake about it. Between that and the end of the world on the horizon, it was impossible for her to focus on anything else. The problem that she was discovering though, in these following days of tension between them, was that she couldn’t figure out why he felt as uncomfortable as he did. Unless he hated her for it. Which she wouldn’t put it past him now that he’d finally admitted to her what he had gone through. And it was her fear of him resenting her that was propelling her own awkwardness.

She moved through the motions as the two of them wrapped up, Raven seemingly picking up on how lost in thought she was and letting her be. But just before the two of them split off, she gave Clarke a knowing look.

“Either talk to him or make the list,” she said simply before stalking off to go find Abby.

Clarke let out a shuddering breath of frustration and acceptance. She couldn’t avoid either of these things forever, but she knew which one she’d rather do.

So she turned on her heel to hunt for Bellamy.

Raven’s words about that it was her choosing who lived and who died rattled in her mind as she walked, her pace clipped as she looked for him. The idea of it made her want to heave. She understood why it was up to her, she wasn’t challenging anyone on that. But she just wanted to go one moment without the thought of death tainting her entire being. 

Bellamy wasn’t in the mess hall and she couldn’t find him in any of the winding hallways. Just when she was beginning to feel frantic though, she spotted his usual messy curls up ahead as he exited one of the offices near the hangar bay turned garage. 

“Bellamy!”

She hadn’t meant for her voice to crack as she spotted him and she mentally swore as Bellamy turned around and his expression grew concerned. The whole point was for her to apologize, not make him feel worse.

“Clarke? Are you okay?” He frowned deeply as he stepped closer to her. But as she opened her mouth to respond, she was cut off by the sound of an engine starting.

Her eyes shot up and Bellamy whipped around. 

“No one’s scheduled to take the rover,” he muttered under his breath. She almost smiled at his possessiveness for the vehicle, as if it was his personally (which she sort of even saw it as to be fair). But the reality of his statement meant that one more thing was going wrong, so the two of them exchanged a glance before quickly jogging towards the sound. 

The burst of sunlight as they exited outside temporarily blinded Clarke, her eyes seeing spots as her vision adjusted. Had she really been cooping herself up for a long period of time?

Bellamy strode out in front of her, towards the still-stationary Rover.

And sitting in the front seat was Jaha.

Bellamy rapped his knuckles against the door.

“Out of the vehicle,” he growled, yanking it open as he did. 

The ex-chancellor glanced back at her, keeping his hands on the steering wheel as he did. He seemed remarkably unsurprised by being caught by the two of them. 

“I need to make a run,” he responded.

“All supply runs go through Raven,” Clarke quickly retorted. The whole point of having a system was so that people would follow it and she couldn’t tell if it was frustrating or typical of Jaha to not apply those same rules to himself. “And shouldn’t you be working on the patch to Sector 5 like she assigned you to?”

With a leveling stare, Jaha clicked the engine off.

As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he eased his way out of the Rover as Bellamy stepped back to make room for him. The way the door slammed behind him made her chest jolt.

“A patch for a ship that can only save a hundred people?”

Clarke blanched, her brow furrowing as she and Bellamy’s eyes met, him turning to quickly look to her in question. 

“Why are you surprised?” Jaha continued, drawing them back to her. “I am an engineer.”

He said the last part with a soft chuckle and Clarke’s face flushed. Of course, she should have known that when Raven had run the assignments by her the other day. She’d known the Jaha family her whole life, she should have suspected that he’d be able to figure it out. Jaha was many things, not all good, but she knew he was a smart man.

“We have no way to generate water. The harder number is 400. Can you really sentence 400 more of our people to death?”

Jaha’s words were a blade through Clarke’s chest. She lifted her chin defiantly. 

From the one-child rule on the Ark, to being sent down onto the Earth, and to the culling, Clarke couldn’t listen to him talk about choices like that. As if she hadn’t only ever experienced sacrifice in the name of the greater good. Yes –– she could feel herself struggling under the weight of the expectations of being a leader. But she’d be damned if they didn’t push forward.

“We don’t have a choice,” she snapped back, trying to keep her voice from carrying but still feeling the rage course through her all the same.

As her words burst out of her, Bellamy’s head turned to see if anyone was listening to them and she felt herself move in sync with him without meaning to. There was a group of people behind them. She’d have to reign herself in.

“What if you do? What if I told you there might be a fallout shelter less than a day’s drive from here, a fallout shelter built to sustain thousands?” Jaha pressed earnestly, his voice low.

Clarke shook her head just as a voice cut into the conversation.

“We’ve been through all of the Chancellor’s files.”

Raven’s voice was sharp, her eyes narrowed as she honed in on Jaha. Clarke was thankful it was her and not someone else who wasn’t supposed to hear yet. And maybe through Raven, Jaha would listen to reason.

“All the bunkers considered for the hundred were listed as compromised or unviable, and now Mount Weather is too,” Raven explained curtly. If Clarke had thought she had no patience for her, she really didn’t have patience for whatever it was that Jaha was trying to do.

“Those were government bunkers.” 

Even though he didn’t literally roll his eyes, Clarke could almost feel it with the tone of his voice. She watched as he jerked the door open and then felt Bellamy twitch beside her. 

He pulled out a tablet, the rust around it contrasting against the somehow still bright screen on it. A headline popped out at Clarke as she took it from Jaha and Bellamy’s voice echoed over her shoulder.

“A doomsday cult?” His skepticism was clear.

“That’s right––The Second Dawn.”

An unbidden flash of hope raced through Clarke. Maybe not all was lost.

“They built a bunker?”

“Their whole theology was based on riding out the end of the world.”

Clarke gulped, looking back down at the tablet. To her right, she could practically hear Raven scoffing.

“And why didn’t you consider it?”

“We couldn't prove it existed.”

Now it was Bellamy’s turn to retort, the coarse fabric of his jacket catching on Clarke’s sleeve as he shifted his weight. She tried to fight the thought about how close he was standing next to her, telling herself that it was because he was focused on something else and not her. But she couldn’t remove the thought that at least he wasn’t so angry with her that he couldn't be near her. 

“So why are you considering it now?” He asked gruffly, demanding.

Jaha almost seemed to grow impatient at that. “Because before now, we didn’t need it.”

It clicked in Clarke’s mind as she listened to the back and forth.

“You found it, didn’t you?”

A slow, easy smile emerged on Jaha’s face. The sunlight was glinting on his bald head and in the white of his beard, stark against the richness of his deep skin tone. He was confident with himself, the aura he’d maintained as Chancellor stepping back into his posture.

“We can’t be sure unless we check it out,” he merely replied. But the tone was still there all the same.

That was all that Clarke needed.

And apparently it wasn’t enough for Raven.

“No. No way.”

“Raven,” Clarke began to plead. She felt Bellamy step in even closer behind her as they both turned to face Raven.

“We need that Rover for hauling pieces of a three ton patch––”

“––but if he’s right we won’t need a patch,” Clarke finished impatiently. An image of a list burned in her brain as she and Raven faced off. If she could avoid reaching that point, she’d be able to save that many more tally marks from the seemingly never-ending count of death by her hand.

Raven’s lips pursed. “Can I talk to you guys for a second?”

The three of them shifted away from Jaha, who continued to stand calmly by the Rover. Next to her, Clarke felt Bellamy settle into himself and she was thankful that she instinctively could tell that he was on her side with this. His body language alone, mirroring hers against Raven’s opposite stance, gave her more relief than she’d expected. 

“Can you please remind Clarke what happened the last time Jaha went looking for salvation?” Raven coldly asked.

But Clarke’s assumption about Bellamy’s stance was correct, the corner of her eye catching the edge of him shaking his head.

“Raven, if that bunker is real, we can save a lot more than a hundred people.”

The mechanic’s head whipped back to Clarke.

“And if it’s not, we’ve lost another day.”

It was a moment that felt make or break to Clarke. She understood that she’d been gone for when the chips had been circulated, but she’d been here to see what had happened when Bellamy returned open-handed. This time, she’d put it on herself.

“Hey, look,” she rushed to say, “if it’s not, I’ll make the list… okay?”

Raven’s expression softened as she silently questioned Clarke. Behind her, she didn’t need to look to know that Bellamy’s posture had stiffened again. The grunt he tried to mask was a reveal enough.

Clarke watched as Raven stared her and then Bellamy down. She knew that she was assessing the situation to see if she’d already spoken with Bellamy, to see if this errand was worth the risk. She didn’t even need to look at him to know it was clear that they hadn’t talked. Despite his relative ease into their roles in dealing with Jaha, Bellamy’s tension was still palpable as he stood beside her, even with them on the same side. 

“Fine, you two both go with him so there’s backup,” she finally resigned. “Do what you want, figure your shit out on the way, I’ve got a ship to seal.” 

Trying to not balk at the not-so-subtle retort thrown in the middle of her statement, Clarke nodded and made her way back to the Rover. 

She told herself that she was imagining the burning of Bellamy’s eyes in the back of her as they both approached the vehicle again.

With a quick nod to Jaha, the three of them loaded up into the Rover. And for a moment, all felt normal again. But Clarke saw the tightness around Bellamy’s hard gaze, looking out on the road ahead of them, and she knew there was still ground to cover.

Assuming that she’d have some moment of privacy with Bellamy was clearly for naught, though with a task at hand it was easier for the two of them to work together again.

But regardless of how it went down, it didn’t remove the fact that their mission was a failure. Threads of spiderwebs still lingered in her hair and Clarke couldn’t shake the sight of the layers of scorched corpses that had been splayed out over their hope for a new chance at survival.

The ride back to Arkadia was silent, disappointment settling in as they drove. Jaha being right to a point somehow made it all a bit worse. But it also solidified that they didn’t have a choice but to fortify what they had and hope for the best. A daunting task that was already multiplying Clarke’s internal to-do’s into a never ending list. 

It didn’t help that Bellamy seemed off on their way back. Of course, it could just be the bunker being a bust. It probably was just that.

But Clarke had become so in tune with him, especially as of late, there was a nagging feeling in her gut that something else had happened. But what she couldn’t figure out was what it could be. The only time she’d been separate from him was a brief bit of time when it had been just him and Jaha together, but the old chancellor seemed his usual self which gave her no clues. Whatever it was that had transpired, if anything had at all, wasn’t obvious to her.

Of course, part of her still worried that it was her fault. She couldn’t pretend to herself that this had been enough and that she didn’t have to talk to him. 

She wanted to ask him what they had talked about while she had been just ahead of them. But the whole point of this conversation was to apologize to him for pushing him too far. 

This was her chance. Raven had told her she needed to talk with him and that much was clear now. She had to stop hiding like she always did, use the strength she’d pulled from within herself when she’d asked him to be honest with her.

She waited until Jaha had left the Rover, giving each of them a curt nod before slipping back into the darkness of the night to return to his sleeping chambers.

“Bellamy, we need to talk.”

His hand stilled against the door handle. 

“I thought we did talk already.” His voice was tense and Clarke did her best to calm her heart rate before her nerves overreacted. 

“No, not about that,” she quickly replied. “In some regards I suppose it’s about that, but about us.”

At that, Bellamy’s eyes finally met hers. She couldn’t read his expression. His eyes were dark and boring into her, studying her in a way that only he could. 

Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead.

“When we talked, I didn’t get a chance to fully apologize for what you went through. But I also need to apologize for pushing you –– not just for pushing you to go in there, but also for making you feel like you have to explain yourself to me. Your experiences are your own. I only did because I was worried you wouldn’t come to me on your own terms about it, but I never meant to make you uncomfortable and it should have been your choice.”

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected his reaction to be to her plea, and she’d been fully prepared to continue to fight for his forgiveness, but she watched as his face went from caged to open in a matter of seconds. 

“Clarke,” he started and she felt her heart flutter in anticipation. 

“You’re not responsible for what happened at Mount Weather. Lincoln and I––” his eyes became downcast at the mention of the man “––we weren’t supposed to get caught. But that wasn’t on you, and what those people were doing to the Grounders, and to me, isn’t on you either. I wasn't distant because you made me uncomfortable… I guess I just had to process that I accused you of not being honest with me when it made me realize I hadn’t been honest with you either.”

He slowly reached out and gripped her hand with his. It was similar to that moment in Polis, hers shaking as she reached out to him for support before entering the City of Light.

“I know the way your brain works,” he said gently, an amused smile coming onto his face. He cleared his throat. “And I guess I also just understand in general. The feeling of adding on more guilt to yourself than you need to.”

Clarke laughed lightly. That somehow felt like an understatement. Hadn’t she tried to teach him the same lesson when Raven had come down, when Dax had almost killed them? When he’d confided in her that he thought he was responsible for Lincoln’s death? An image of Lexa’s body came to mind and she felt the same catch in her stomach at the memory. One more mark of similarity between them and the weight of guilt and death.

“You’re not wrong. So, friends again?” She asked, feeling lighter than she had in a long time.

_ Had they ever used that description for each other before? She suddenly couldn’t remember. _

His jaw clicked at the word and for a moment she was anxious she’d ruined it all again, but then he nodded. His expression cleared and he squeezed her hand once again.

“You’ve made a lot of decisions Clarke, but I don’t want you to worry about what we’ve gone through –– what I’ve gone through. I know we went through a lot with Pike and Lexa, but we’re through all of that now. You don’t have to keep worrying about that, I trust you and we’re back on the same side again,” he replied. 

The warmth in his voice and the way he said that they were on the same side again made her nearly glow. She couldn’t pick up what it was about his tone that had shifted, but she felt a surge of affection for him. They were on the same side again after that time apart. And seeing the way he was smiling at her, his crooked grin that felt so much like the beginning of all of this, made Clarke’s heart pound. 

She could almost convince herself that there was something more he wanted to say. And maybe she knew the words too, but she couldn’t bring herself to fully believe it. Polis had scraped her raw with the intensity of everything, the fire of her emotions both exhilarating and scorching. The idea of threatening this balance with Bellamy was too terrifying.

So she left the conversation at that, as  _ friends _ , and the two of them finally got out of the Rover to return to Arkadia for the night. 

Bellamy’s side almost brushed against hers and with the moment of tension behind them, Clarke decided that it felt like that previous chapter was finally and truly behind them. They’d be able to focus again, get back in sync with each other. The only way they were going to be able to find a way through all of this was if they were together.

But as the heat of him hovered beside her, Clarke tried to not suck in her breath. Because if now they were able to close in on that chapter, it meant that there were old feelings that were able to resurface. Feelings that, despite the glamour of Polis, had apparently been simmering under the surface until a time like this.

XXX

She hadn’t meant to start crying. 

She could probably count on one hand how much she’d allowed herself to cry on Earth, including the time by herself in the woods. Survival instincts always overruled the impulse to cry. But right now, sitting in this quiet room, Clarke couldn’t hold it back anymore. 

It was a silent sob that first wracked her body.

The type of cry that was so deep, her entire body ached and her chest was heavy.

She had played the role of decider multiple times now. She’d chosen who lived and who died and even now she felt Jasper’s burning glare in her mind, cradling Maya’s body. More faces flashed in her mind as she stared down at the paper in front of her, the names already written out blurring in her vision from the tears.

The one space left on the list mocked her.

It had only taken one glance at Bellamy’s sleeping form for her to have written his name. The steady way his chest fell and rose up as he breathed softly in his slumber. While Bellamy never complained about lack of sleep, she knew that there was no way that he was getting as much as he really needed. Maybe he’d finally be able to get it in the bunker, waiting out the radiation. 

But for that final spot… she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

As much as Bellamy teased her about having a deathwish and his never ending quest to keep her from fulfilling it, she didn’t truly have one. 

She  _ did  _ want to live. 

She looked over at Bellamy again, doing her best to swallow back her tears before looking back at the list.

She knew she had given him a similar pep talk that day in the hallway. Urging him to understand that he had value, despite what he told himself. But somehow the words that she’d tried to tell him, she couldn’t apply to herself. The sound of her choking back her tears was filled with not just her own, but the sound of so many others. All of the way back to Atom’s final breath, to the death rattle that had echoed through the dining hall of Mount Weather. The people on the crosses at Polis, even though A.L.I.E. hadn’t been her fault, still somehow felt like a reminder of her failings. Always rooted in the question that if she hadn’t left that summer, how much could she have changed?

The sound of shifting fabric and a grunt drew her head up and over, just in time to see Bellamy hoisting himself up off of the couch.

His hair was ruffled, even more mussed from sleep. But despite the sleepiness that was edging away from his face, she could see it being overtaken by concern.

He’d heard her crying.

She couldn’t look at him, not with how he was looking at her, and she looked back down as the tears burned down her face.

Bellamy stopped just beside her at the desk, his hand appearing on the desk in the periphery of her vision. She could feel his gaze steady on her and she knew he wasn’t even looking at the list in front of her. He’d seen the first part of it when they’d worked on it together before he slept, but he didn’t even need to look at it now to know what was going on. As always, he could read her like an open book.

“If I’m on that list, you’re on that list.”

His voice came straight from his chest with a low rumble. A resoluteness to his statement that left no room for questioning. 

It was what broke her.

“Bellamy, I can’t,” she brokenly cried, finally looking back up at him. All of her armor was stripped away in this moment and she knew she looked as broken as she felt.

“Write it down,” he pushed back. When she only responded with a shaking sob, his expression grew more subdued.

“Write it down or I will.”

A glance back at the list.

The black ink was reminiscent of the Nightblood that had spilled for her, spilled instead of her own. The black mark of the trail of death she left behind in her wake.

Clarke shook her head.

Beside her, Bellamy reached forward and pulled the paper to him. As he snagged the pen, she let out a sniffle. But she couldn’t fight him as she watched him write out her name beneath his. The final slot.

He spared a glance at her as he finished her last name and his eyes went straight through her. She had the sudden thought that right now, with despair cloaking her, that she wanted nothing more to find that feeling of safety in his arms. As that thought buried itself in her, he slowly straightened up.

The list was complete now, Bellamy once again helping her draw the line like that day he’d placed his hand on top of hers on the lever.

“So what now?” She asked, her voice only wavering a little bit.

She dragged her gaze back up to him. She felt small and exhausted and at this moment, wanted nothing more for someone else to help give an answer. And as he always had been, Bellamy was that guiding light.

“We put it away and hope we never have to use it,” he replied.

“You still have hope?” 

Clarke hated acknowledging how disheartened she was by all of this, her struggle to see a point to trying this hard for something that felt so hopeless. She didn’t know how he did this.

That pulled a faint smile to Bellamy’s lips, his head cocking to finally look at her again.

“We still breathing?”

It almost seemed too simple, but then again how else had their ancestors found it within themselves to keep going?

The weight of Bellamy’s hand on her shoulder made a few more tears leak out at the comfort of his presence. Without even thinking of the intimacy of it, Clarke leaned into it and slid her own hand up to meet his, nuzzling into it.

The move seemed to throw Bellamy for a second and she felt his hand twitch against her body.

“You should get some sleep,” he instructed gruffly. 

She pulled her head up with mild surprise at his sudden turn, only being able to let out a nod before he pulled his hand back.

“That’s a good idea,” she managed to say back. “You too.”

The moment they’d been on the cusp of seemed to be crumbling and she wasn’t quite sure how to bring it back.

“Are you… are you okay?”

He was fidgeting, an oddly out of place tick for him. 

“I’m fine,” she rasped out. 

It was hardly convincing, not that she tried very hard as she realized what she was feeling now was  _ rejection _ , and Bellamy seemed to immediately pick up on her dishonesty. The only problem was that he misinterpreted what she was obscuring. 

“Look, if you don’t––” Bellamy grunted, stopping himself and then trying again, “if you’d rather I’m not here…” There was an untapped frustration that laced his words and Clarke’s nerves went haywire. But she couldn’t say anything fast enough and in a split-second, she was only feeling the imprint of his hand on her shoulder and he was making his way across the room.

Away from her.

She jumped to her feet, almost knocking her knee into the corner of the table. She thought about his face when she’d called them friends in the Rover just yesterday, the way she’d briefly let herself believe that the word had triggered something in him. His reaction now belatedly answered that question.

“Please––” the word tumbled from Clarke’s mouth before she could help herself. 

Bellamy paused at the door, his hand dropping back to his side from where it had been reaching for the door handle. 

She swallowed deeply, suddenly afraid to say anything else.

She had rarely ever struggled to make a first step with people. But this was Bellamy and suddenly she felt shy, as if they hadn’t been through everything together already. But that was what made this moment so terrifying. If the panic she’d felt earlier with him, worried she’d pushed him about his time at Mount Weather, was any indication then she wouldn’t be able to make it if she ruined this moment.

“Clarke,” he said slowly, his voice low. There was a rumble to it as his eyes flashed and she felt goosebumps erupt down her spine. “What is it that you want?”

He was once again challenging her to use her words. 

She almost wished he wouldn’t. He made her freeze up around him, falling back on simple statements that she could only hope he’d pick up. Like how special he was, how much of a good leader he was. But even she knew deep down that those were surface level compliments that were far from truly conveying what she meant. She didn’t have the words in her that he always managed to have. But he was once again pushing her, challenging her to be honest with herself and with him.

“I don’t want you to leave.” It was easier to say it quickly, just like handling things in medical. 

She was rewarded by him fully turning to face her now and taking a few steps back closer to her. But they were only a couple steps and he was still away from her. She was briefly distracted by the way his jaw clenched and the way his throat moved as he swallowed anxiously. But he didn’t say anything.

Another challenge. He knew that she was still holding back.

“Please, stay with me,” she tried again. “I don’t want you to go. Not this time.”

Her voice sounded small to her ears but he must have heard something she hadn’t… because he began to move.

It took her a second to realize she was holding her breath as he crossed the threshold of the room. While his expression was cautious, his steps grew in assuredness as he got closer to her. His long legs brought him to her before she was able to figure out if she was ready for it. 

Clarke had seen Bellamy in a million different scenarios since they had arrived on Earth. He’d taken on the roles of her rival, a leader, a protector.  _ Her _ protector. She’d seen him with blood on his hands and despair in his eyes... but she’d also seen him with pride roaring through his veins and determination set in his jaw line. But she’d never really seen him with this soft of an expression.

Or maybe she had –– always just on the cusp of her vision –– and never had the chance to fully understand what it meant.

“Is there anything else?” 

This time it didn’t require her to think at all. After those first two attempts, she’d finally found it in her. She’d felt them both teeter on the precipice before and this time she didn’t want either of them to hold themselves back anymore.

“I want you.”

If he was at all startled by her confession, he didn’t show it. Her face was beginning to flush and she could feel it strengthening in its intensity as he slowly raised his hand towards her face. The gentleness in the way he moved his hand against her cheek made her almost shiver. The pad of his thumb was rough, tracing against her cheek. 

It felt like her body was vibrating. 

Bellamy took a small step closer to her, the heat of his chest engulfing her own as he slightly tilted her head up towards him. It was the smallest movement on his end but it made her almost gasp, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

Even though she’d made the first move, trying to make it obvious for him what she wanted, he still seemed to be waiting for her permission. Slowly and cautiously, afraid to break the moment, Clarke reached her hands forward and placed them on his chest. 

Somehow they’d drifted even closer to each other but she was too distracted by the feel of him beneath her fingers. Underneath the coarse fabric of his shirt, that tan shirt that she’d seen him in so often but now felt like a whole new visual, one that she was selfishly taking in now. She took her time, letting her fingers slowly trace against it until her hands reached his collarbones. Once her hands were resting against his shoulders, she finally dragged her eyes up to his. They maintained eye contact for a torturously long moment and then she took the initiative and pushed herself up onto her toes. Bellamy met her the rest of the way, using his hands cupping her cheeks so that their lips finally met.

There was a momentary hesitation –– his lips pressing into hers but neither of them moving right away. A silent question hung between them as they grew used to the feel of each other, processing a moment that she wasn’t sure would come to fruition. His lips were rough against hers, his breath hot against her cheek as they hesitantly pulled apart. The distance between them was almost inconsequential though. She could still feel his lips brushing against hers, catching just slightly against hers as they took a second.

And with a quick suck in of his breath, which she could feel against her own chest, he quickly crushed his lips back to hers.

Clarke’s hands fisted into his shirt, trying to get herself as close to him as possible. In turn, Bellamy’s hands dropped from where he’d been holding her face to his and melted to her back. She gasped into his mouth at the searing sensation of the heat of his palms, pressed tightly against her shirt, as he held her to him. The way he’d gripped her hand the first time he’d saved her was a lightning bolt of a memory as she felt that same grip on her body now. And it felt just as necessary as it had that day. Without it, she was sure she would float away with the high she was getting from this kiss. 

She’d thought of the strength of her feelings towards him in passing those early days and then her attraction to him had just been buried over time. 

Feeling the strength in his body, holding her and keeping her from flying apart in more ways than one, was bringing it all rushing back.

She was only partially aware as they stumbled back towards the couch. He hoisted her up as he dropped back down onto it, easily placing her back on her lap with barely pulling away from her. 

It was dizzying. 

His mouth moved to the edge of hers, dropping kisses alongside her jaw as her head fell back. She was still thankful for the feel of his hands against her, pressing her into his chest. He was making her melt, every ounce of stress disappearing from her and melting into simple pleasure. 

She lost track of how long they made out. He had been by her side since the beginning, even when they’d been at odds. But just as they were able to communicate wordlessly in leadership, the same applied to this heated moment as well. He knew how to move his lips against hers, when to gently nip at her lower lip. She seemed to know exactly where he liked her hands to grip him, directing and outlining his body as she ran them from his arms to his shoulders. As much her body hummed with need though, mirrored in his body as well, the exhaustion of the day and the late hour was catching up to both of them. For now, this would be as far as this night would take them. Slowly the kisses pulled back in intensity, becoming lazier and more gentle. A long, slow one that transitioned into her nuzzling against his hair. Finally, with one last press of his lips to her forehead, they let themselves fully catch their breath.

“Well then,” he murmured with a huff of laughter. His forehead rested against hers and she decided then and there that she could fall asleep like this, tightly wrapped up in him, if given the chance.

“I would have made the list sooner if I had known this would happen,” she tried to tease back, but the breathlessness to her voice made her true feelings clear.

One of his hands returned to her head, gently threading his fingers through her messy hair. They fell into an easy silence as he gently untangled it. She wondered how it would have looked if they’d had the energy to have gone further. The imagery that came to mind made her blush.

“What’s on your mind?” 

His voice was soft and she could feel his chest hum against hers as he spoke. 

She knew he wasn’t just thinking about that, because even as her mind was distracted by thoughts of future alone time together, it was still beginning to spin and think about everything else. 

“What do you want this to be?” Clarke finally asked.

In the dimness of the room, his eyes were nearly jet black as they drifted to meet hers. She hoped the question didn’t sound like she wanted it to be casual, but she was too practical for her own good sometimes. She couldn’t avoid this conversation with him, not if it meant getting themselves in over their head and hurting each other.

“How much time do we have left on Earth?” Bellamy’s half-joke made her smile, dropping her head to his shoulder as he enveloped her in a hug. As much as her body still thrummed from moments ago, she found herself relaxing into his grip. She felt safe in his arms, shielded from reality even as they joked about it. She thought again about falling asleep on the couch with him.

“Not very long,” she murmured into his chest.

He hummed above her and she could feel it vibrate against her. It almost made her chuckle and it was hard to remember that she’d been crying earlier. 

“I can’t help but feel selfish about wanting to keep this all to myself,” he said slowly. She nodded in return, understanding where he came from. 

The tension of Arkadia was palpable, even without everyone knowing what was to come. It was impossible to shake it. And the mounting pressure of needing a solution made her feel almost guilty for taking spare time she had to fall into Bellamy’s arms instead.

“You’re not selfish,” she said, shifting her weight back up to sit upright in his arms again. Rather than answer her, he gave her another soft kiss. She let him leave a trail of them alongside her jaw, pulling a giggle from her before she spoke again. “So for now, we keep this to ourselves?”

“I haven’t really ever had something just to myself before,” he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She cursed her own tiredness when she caught the deep burning still in his eyes.

As they eventually made their way back to their respective rooms, Clarke found herself genuinely thankful that they both agreed with keeping them, whatever they were, under wraps. Not just out of a strange fear of feeling like they were flaunting themselves, or to fret over what to even classify themselves as, but as a pure thing just for themselves. Something that they could keep away from the stress of everything else, something to come back to when things become too difficult. Untainted by choking pressures of their day to day lives. 

And after one last heated kiss, where Bellamy pressed her against her door with a murmur of never imagining this would actually happen, Clarke found herself falling asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in a while. 

There was a duality to life after that stolen late night moment.

In some regards, life was normal. Or however normal life could be on Earth. Routine was a better word for it: waking up and stressing about the survival of her people. Stress about the destruction of the world around them, a world that they’d only briefly been able to spend time on. Trying to balance the many opinions of what was the right thing to do, and how they could even just do the bare minimum. In many ways, Bellamy was still her partner in handling everything. 

But now there was a new element to what they were to each other. 

Bellamy had always been prone to casual touches. With everyone really, and even her back when they’d first landed on Earth. The touch of his hand on her shoulder as he’d taught her to fire a gun had been one of the firsts... but now she had it all of the time.

It was still subtle, following both of their decisions to remain discrete. No one picked up on it and she couldn’t quite figure out if it was because they were that secret or if maybe they really always did interact like this.

Sometimes it was just the feel of his hand against her low back as he followed close behind her into meetings. It was the way that he held her back when Luna and her people had staggered into Arkadia; his hand gently holding her back by the arm, but his thumb softly rubbing circles into her skin as a way to keep her from panicking at what the signs of radiation meant. What it meant for their rushed timeline and the ethics of medical supplies distribution. If it was a casual enough meeting and everyone was sitting (instead of their usual anxious pacing), his leg always seemed to find hers. Never to initiate anything inappropriate, not a distraction. Just a warm, solid weight against hers that reminded her that he was there for her. 

She couldn’t help it if they’d never been good about personal space either, her face flaming at her new awareness of how close they always stood to each other. 

_ Of course _ they had before. She’d probably at some point started doing it on purpose to show her strength against his when he’d been her adversary, that she wasn’t intimidated by him, but somewhere along the way it had changed into seeking comfort in his warmth. Knowing that even if he didn’t lean forward and embrace her, he had every ability to do so. The hardest part was admitting to herself that it was a habit she’d picked up long before this arrangement.

The newest element folded into this though was the physical affection when they weren’t around anyone else.

Bellamy had the occasional late night patrol and while it hadn’t been the only reason Clarke had stayed up, she found herself wandering to his room around the time when she knew the shifts changed. He understood better than anyone else why she had trouble sleeping. And maybe when life slowed down enough, she’d be able to work through why it was that she only ever slept well in the comfort of others, but for now she just focused on fulfilling that need. And Bellamy was more than happy to be there with her. It took only one night for her to realize that he was probably the only person she wanted to be with like this.

The first time had been an accident: long, drawn out kisses on his bed to make up for a hard day of planning had led to Clarke falling asleep in his arms, entirely unplanned. When she woke up sometime in the middle of the night, her surprise made her react physically and jerk Bellamy awake.

“Stay,” he’d murmured once he’d realized nothing was actually wrong, tracing his fingers up and down her arm to soothe her initial panic. “When’s the last time you actually got a good night’s sleep?” 

His comforting words and his voice dipping into the deep-rasp of just having woken up were enough to convince her to stay. She’d immediately fallen back asleep, his arms securely returning to her waist and cradling her closely. He’d felt like home.

When the young girl who had come with Luna passed away, Bellamy stayed up with her as she struggled to come out of a panic attack. She’d held it together just enough to make it through the day. The children of Mount Weather, the young Nightblood children slaughtered by Ontari. He rubbed circles into her back and helped braid her hair to get it away from her face.

The mornings when Clarke woke up and reality dawned on her once again of what they were facing, her thoughts weren’t able to spin out of control as easily. Not when Bellamy would lean over, his hand tilting her face towards his and kissing away her obvious distress. All while murmuring reminders that they were still breathing, guiding her through measured deep breaths until she came back to herself.

And for the days where it hit Bellamy like a brick that Octavia wasn’t there, as close as they were to the end of the world, Clarke was steadfastly by his side. Haunted by the fraught exchanges they’d last had, ripped apart by Lincoln and then Pike’s deaths, he was only able to compartmentalize it for so long. So when that time came, Clarke was there to help remind him of his worth and how much of life was out of his hands, despite how much control he tried to maintain.

If anyone noticed their synchrony or the amount of times they always showed up places at the exact same time, no one commented anything. Raven never brought up the tension from those earlier days or asked Clarke if she had spoken with him. 

Because to everyone else, things were as they should be. And that realization was what made Clarke clue into the fact that she and Bellamy were operating at their best now. This all felt right, because at some point along the way this became the way they needed to be.

XXX

The stress was beginning to feel much for Clarke.

It was humming just underneath her skin, her nerves stretched as thin as possible as everyone continued to push themselves to the brink. Survival was never easy, but it all felt harder than it should right now.

Of course, she knew one way this could all feel a little better.

But Bellamy wasn’t back yet and it was one more thing keeping her anxious, snapping at everyone in her way. She couldn’t help it. He’d always been her rock but now? He was a boulder, a pillar of strength for her when she didn’t think she had any left in her. He always knew how to inspire her in a way that no one else could. 

So the arrival of Octavia, bloody and horrifyingly still, only added to Clarke’s internal panic.

She wanted the next time she saw Bellamy to be intimate. She didn’t want to tell him that his sister had died. And luckily it looked like that wouldn’t be the case, thanks to the strange Grounder who had brought the younger Blake in. 

If only that had been the end of her troubles today. 

The announcement of Azgeda troops had been the last thing she’d wanted to worry about. Bellamy’s absence from her side had felt even more obvious than before, her hands flexing anxiously alongside her body as she listened to the plan. When Monty said they’d found the cargo truck and no sign of Bellamy… well she could only hope that no one saw how much it rocked her. She had a flashback to Mount Weather. Back to when she’d told him to go there and risk his life. She’d waited so long to hear from him then, pestering Raven for ages at the radio. But this time there was no radio and she was back to not knowing where he was. So with a quivering lip, she did her best to go along with business as usual. And hopefully no one heard the shake in her voice.

The trip to the pass filled Clarke with warring dread. There were so many things she should be focused on right now but with Roan here and then Bellamy missing, her mind was scattered. She could feel herself slipping in and out of her perfectly crafted role that she normally maintained so well.

Standing alone in the pass made her think of that day on the bridge, trying to first make peace with Anya.

After everything that had gone on, that felt like a lifetime ago. And so much had changed since then. She had a full-blown army behind her ready to match the strength of the one she was meeting. But right, all by herself amongst the rocks, her memory zeroed in on the memory of Bellamy agreeing to be her backup. Barely functioning co-leaders at the time, he’d still immediately listened to her. Her initial instinct to trust him so strongly at the time had been right and he’d saved her life. How he had been the one to follow her and be on the ready, whirling around to see him at the ready after firing a shot to save her.

She only wished he could be here again, to settle the anxious fluttering in her chest as she stared down the army approaching her.

She had only a second to wonder if she’d ever truly thanked him for that either. It made her stomach clench.

There wasn’t any time for her to dwell on that any longer though. She’d have to store that fear away for later tonight, when she fretted that even the gentle kisses she gave Bellamy were enough to convey the emotions she felt for him. She had to push those thoughts away and focus on the task on hand.

It was impossible to discern Roan’s expression as his figure, flanked by Echo’s on his left, broke over the horizon. 

She did her best to remain impassive.  _ Curse them for this bullshit. _ Only would the Grounders, Azgeda even more so, be so determined to cause distractions in the face of the end of the world. Was it really so difficult for everyone to cooperate until they’d figured out a plan? There had to be some type of misunderstanding going on, there had to be. 

Her frustration had to be kept in check though. Clearly Roan knew something had changed and she needed to stay level-headed. So she made herself wait, nails pressing into her palms, to see what he wanted. She’d been all business, instructing Harper what to do so that she wouldn’t truly be alone. She could maintain that now too.

He must really think he had something on her. 

Her eyes flicked from him and Echo to the two prisoners in front of them.

They came to a halt.

Seemingly conversing with each other, Clarke waited as patiently as she could while schooling a cold expression onto her face. When they faced her again, silent once more, she decided it was time to get this over with.

“We need to talk,” she called out. 

Roan’s voice had hints of disparagement as he answered her. “Little late for that.”

He switched to Trigedasleng and she picked up on his order for his archers to target her. The way he growled “ _ Wanheda” _ out made her body stiffen. Behind the king, his army stepped forward as they raised their arrows on her. She felt the experiences they’d had for this long reverberate through her as she didn’t even flinch at the sight. Instead, she slowly looked up to the right. 

The bright green laser sights on Roan’s chest had the desired effect that they’d hoped would happen.

If looks could kill, Roan’s gaze would have brought down the entire row of soldiers now visible on the jagged rockline above the pass. He glowered through the war paint and Clarke allowed herself a moment of pride that her people had been able to maintain the element of surprise. Panic began to ripple through the Azgeda troops, swinging wildly as they tried to figure out who to focus on. Only Roan remained calm, his eyes sliding back to her as a half-smirk graced his features. Echo looked like she’d wished her blade had cut through Clarke’s neck back in Polis.

She watched as the woman ordered something and from behind her war-painted horse came two soldiers with two prisoners. Clarke’s posture tightened. 

This must be the advantage that Roan no doubt believed her had over her.

The fabric covering their faces was yanked up, revealing who Roan had kidnapped and brought before her as bargaining chips. On the right was Kane, his beard even longer than she remembered. It tracked –– he had been in Polis this entire time.

Bellamy’s face was the one she hadn’t the one she’d expected to see. 

Clarke found herself sucking in her breath, a breathed out  _ “Bell” _ escaping her lips before she sealed herself back up. Her world felt like it was tilting on an axis.

Did Roan know?

Did he know the comfort she now found in Bellamy beyond just a co-leader? 

There was no way that he could have –– no one knew. But she couldn’t help but fear the iciness that coursed through her at the idea. The danger that Bellamy would be in if anyone found out was insurmountable. But that was a worry that parallel to what was going on now. Because in some way or another, Roan had deduced that Bellamy was at least of some high importance to her. And even if he didn’t know about the stolen kisses and the aching need she had for him in all senses, it didn’t matter because he had guessed close enough.

She was going to have to negotiate with him. The risk was too high and for a brief moment, she was back in Polis and surrounded by candles and the stench of death. A wicked whisper licked the depths of her mind, reminding her of what the Grounders had dubbed her. A slither of  _ Wanheda _ coiling itself in her mind as she resolutely decided that no one else she loved was going to die because of her.

Bellamy’s face slowly moved up, his eyes clearly adjusting to the light as he met her gaze. 

Roan’s  _ “your move, Wanheda” _ was muted in Clarke’s ears, faded against the roaring that had just taken up in her head. 

She watched as Bellamy stoically adjusted his posture, doing his best to equally show no reaction to seeing her across the way. It felt like a lifetime. The pass was suddenly twice as long, stretching him further and further away from her. She ached to be closer to him. Inspect if he was injured, make sure he was hydrated after who knows how many hours he’d been held captive. 

But she couldn’t.

He was too far from her. Too far for her to completely tell what he was feeling and for them to be able to silently communicate with each other like they always were able to.

All she could do was stick to the plan that Arkadia had laid out. 

“Ten minutes. That’s all I ask,” she called back hoarsely. She was proud of herself for keeping her voice steady.

Those ten minutes ended up going in a way that she hadn’t fully been prepared for, having to go almost entirely off of her gut. 

Roan’s frustration had been palpable. Refusing to believe that she hadn’t turned against him, she’d wanted to scream at him. Take him by his shoulders and yell into his face until he understood that this was bigger than them, alliances, and the Grounders. 

But he didn’t care. This was still about winning to him, as if it was her fault that their ship had been what they’d crashed to Earth in.

When he dared bring up Bellamy though… that was when she’d felt her fury turn icy. 

Even with his retort about her learning from Lexa, she was reminded of another moment with the past Commander. Another time when she’d been accused of caring about Bellamy more than others. Even calling out her own choice to sacrifice Abby had left her at a stalemate with the king. 

One more difficult decision for one last, ultimate battle against nature.

The weight of her decision sat heavy on her shoulders as the two of them moved to rejoin the others. But at the same time, she was still confident she made the best possible decision. She had to think about how they could best move forward as humanity, as one. This would just have to give her enough time to find a better answer. 

Roan’s demeanor remained unbothered as they walked, his posture echoing the confidence in which he’d had in accepting fifty spots. But that number rattled through Clarke. The fear of having to reach that point stung as much as her hand did, the dried blood flaking against her palm as she clenched her hand in and out of a fist. But that all suddenly felt menial when they rounded the corner and saw one of each of their people up ahead, as if waiting for them.

“Bellamy! Are you okay?” Clarke couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice, even at the elation of seeing him unchained. She took in the sight of Echo beside him, her war paint smeared and her eyes dark with simmering anger mixed with unease.

“No one died today,” Bellamy said flippantly, focused on Roan with a scathing look before looking back at her.

Roan, always ready to get to the point: “So what did we miss?”

His eyebrow arched as Bellamy and Echo glanced at each other. Something akin to a challenge seemed to flit across Bellamy’s face as they stood there for a second. Finally, Echo looked back at the king and responded, “Nothing sire.”

The skepticism was clear on Roan’s face but he didn’t push the topic. Clarke tried to not zero in on the cut across Bellamy’s cheekbone. She’d have to clean that later. Instead, she watched as Bellamy’s weight shifted and he looked between the two of them.

“So I take it we’re not at war?”

Clarke shook her head, biting at her lip as Bellamy’s eyes settled on her with an intense focus. He was checking to make sure that she was okay, that nothing had happened in the cave.

“Not today.” Roan’s voice was gruff as he cast a knowing look at Clarke before looking back at Bellamy and Echo. He had a silent conversation with the fellow Azgeda woman before turning back to Clarke. 

“Explain to your people the deal we’ve reached. I won’t be disappointed this time.”

And as if knowing how much she needed to reach out to Bellamy, with a jerk of his head he instructed Echo to follow him back to their horses. She gave each of them a look of disdain before turning on her feet to catch up. As soon as their backs disappeared amongst the trees, Clarke staggered towards Bellamy. The front she’d had up during negotiating was cracking and she needed him. Need him to tell her that she’d made the right decision.

“I need to explain what––” Clarke said in a rush, but Bellamy’s presence engulfed her before she could continue.

“Tell me later,” he breathed out. His hands moved to her neck, his fingers spreading hotly against her skin as he tilted her head up to meet her in a kiss. 

Clarke was more than happy to fall into his arms, breathing in the smell of him. There was his quintessential scent, one she couldn’t even name, and it was mingled with the blood and sweat since his capture. She greedily inhaled it regardless, embracing what it meant. It meant he was  _ alive _ . He was alive and he was in her arms again.

The deeper the kiss became, the more their hands began to move. Hers moved from where she’d grasped onto his biceps up to his hair, tangling amongst his curls. They were matted down from wearing the bag over his head for so long so she quickly raked her nails through, springing them back to life. A groan vibrated in his chest against hers and she echoed him with her own sigh.

She could almost forget for a second that they were two people with the weight of the world on their shoulders. That they were somehow back in space, back on the Ark, and away from all of this. But even with the feel of Bellamy surrounding her, she knew they only had those precious few moments. So reluctantly they pulled away, Bellamy’s hand taking as long as possible to pull back from her body. Their stolen moment before returning to Arkadia with Roan was shorter than she would have wanted, but she knew that they’d have later that night. Even if it was just falling asleep in his arms, knowing he was safe.

“Now, tell me what you had to do.” Bellamy’s voice was low and the two of them began to follow down the same path that Roan and Echo had gone down.

“If we can’t crack the Nightblood, we’ll share Arkadia,” she explained. “Find a way for us to survive together.”

He nodded along, not judging her for the sacrifice she’d made. 

Up ahead, she could see where Roan and Echo had paused, seemingly conversing with a now-freed Kane. The sun was beginning to set around them, the beams of golden light fragmented as it dropped in amongst the trees around them. She was still fighting her hands from shaking. She’d spent so long at that list, sacrificed names and hurt people, only to have to potentially cut it in half. Outside of the few believers on the Ark, space hadn’t been a place for faith. But as she and Bellamy walked across the soft dirt path amongst the trees, she hoped the light shining down on them was a hopeful sign.

Those internal hopes, too fleeting to be prayers, were dashed as soon as they stepped up to the others.

An explosion echoed in the distance.

Each of their heads whipped around, seeking out the source.

Smoke plumed into the yellowing sky. Black, dark muted grays that stained the air. Beneath them the ground rumbled, even from this distance away. 

At the sound, Bellamy’s hand instinctively sought hers out –– despite them being around other people. She gripped it tightly in response as a cry escaped her lips.

_ “It came from Arkadia.”  _

XXX

While a part of Clarke had clung to the idea that Bellamy would understand why she had done what she had done, she also knew that it didn’t matter. She would have done it a thousand times over. He was always going to have made the list; she wasn’t going to let that outcome change just because of the conclave. Taking the bunker was not the fair move but it had been the right move for humanity. And Bellamy was it for her. He represented what she knew humanity could become; he was a leader they deserved to be led by. 

If she had to keep sinking herself lower to keep him afloat, she’d do it every time. 

That didn’t stop her heart from shattering at the way he refused to look at her as they suited up to go get Raven. Her mom had acted as if everything was normal. As if Clarke hadn’t betrayed both of them and they were going on a possible death mission to save their friend.

But also maybe there was a kindred spirit between them with a chasm for Clarke. Two people who’d had others on the outside that Clarke had risked in order to keep them safe.

It made her stomach clench.

“Bellamy––”

“Don’t.”

His voice was rough, refusing to look away from the road.

The sky above them was darkening, slowly but surely. The greenish yellow tint that was cast against everything made the rolling clouds even darker and it was clear that Earth’s hours were numbered. 

She didn’t think Murphy and Emori could hear them well from the back and at this point she didn’t care. Plus they were both observant, there was no way they hadn’t picked up on the tension. Hell, Murphy had been the one Bellamy had then fought with to get his freedom. 

What a sorry group they all were together.

But even as she wanted to cry at the idea that Bellamy wouldn’t look at her again, that the softness in the way he held her had been taken from her by her own hands, she was still resolute in taking him. 

A flash of a memory that wasn’t hers, Bellamy describing what he went through at the Mountain. Of him sneaking through Azgeda troops to get to her. Always to get to her or on her orders. He seemed to still not get it. When he’d made that comment, he’d sealed her decision for her. He revealed the reality of the situations he’d put her in and that would be the last time.

“I’m not going to risk your life anymore,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s not an option.”

“That doesn’t exactly explain the gun, does it?” She couldn’t tell if it was a rhetorical question or not, but it was a fair one. Her shoulders sagged.

“Why did you come on this mission, Clarke?” Bellamy suddenly asked.

She almost startled at that, not expecting him to talk to her again already. She’d immediately tried to prepare for a silent treatment. That wasn’t what Bellamy had in mind, it turned out. Just as much as she’d learned to be honest with him about her romantic feelings for him, as much as she could be at least, he was taking it one step forward with more honesty in response to her actions.

A phantom feeling of handcuffs on her wrist echoed through her mind. It felt like they were on the precipice of warring sides again and she knew now what it was like to be in his arms and kiss him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive another blow up between the two of them.

“Raven’s my friend,” she responded. 

Apparently that wasn’t good enough for Bellamy.

“Yesterday you were fine with leaving your friend out to die, my sister too, Kane…” he trailed off. Even out of the corner of her eye, too scared to look at him, she knew his lips were pursed. 

“I wasn’t fine with it and you know that,” she responded tersely. Those nights in his room, in between kisses, had been moments of honesty as they’d bared their scars for each other. Physical and emotional, Bellamy’s hands tracing down her back and then her slowly kissing up his arms while he’d recanted his choices under Pike. All with the unspoken understanding that they both knew what it meant to carve up pieces of yourself in order to protect others. For him to throw that in her face, as if they didn’t see the same ghosts or that she hadn’t thought this from every angle, was insulting. 

He fell silent after that. At first she was thankful, but then a panic began to spread throughout her.

Bellamy was the one who always had understood her darkest moments. Even when he’d first stopped her all that time ago, to remind her that sometimes who they were to survive was different than who they were, he’d understood her. He’d finally seemed to understand when she’d stumbled over her admitting that she wanted him that night after making the list. And the idea that it was all gone in smoke now terrified her.

“Bellamy, I never meant to hurt you.” She loathed the way her voice cracked but she couldn’t help it. He broke through all of her barriers in a way that no one else could. 

“Aiming a gun at me is a strange way to show that, or any type of love, Clarke.” 

Before she could help herself, Clarke mumbled, “I didn’t pull the trigger.” It was hardly an argument when she’d made him stare down a barrel of a gun. 

“Is that supposed to make it okay?” He asked as if reading her mind, his voice lower now. Her body betrayed her even the seriousness of their conversation as she remembered the last time she’d heard him like that. When he’d challenged her to ask him to stay with her and ever since that night, challenging her to push herself to be honest with him.

She thought of the look on her mom’s face when she’d figured out what she had done. Bellamy’s expression as he’d woken up, piecing together the reality that she had crafted on her own without him. And then Bellamy’s dark hair morphed into Maya’s and then Lexa’s blood was pooling into Clarke’s hands, and then she was watching her father get sucked out into space. 

She stared unblinkingly at the road in front of them as the visions faded. The lights of the Rover had clicked on, dusk beginning to fall and for a moment, it was eerily beautiful. 

“Nothing is okay,” she found herself saying. “Whatever choice I make, somebody always dies.” 

Bellamy’s head cocked towards her at her words.

“Well,” he began after a long pause, “not shooting me, that was the right choice.”

Surprised, Clarke quickly looked over at him. He gave her a small, crooked smile and she nearly teared up at the sight of it. As her eyes grew watery, her own smile twitched into existence and his continued to grow as well, softening the longer he looked at her. 

The moment of forgiveness lasted just long enough to distract them from the person in the road, Clarke picking up on it just moments too late. And as they spiraled off of the road, blood splattered on the windshield, Clarke’s sense of reassurance that this would all be okay in the end went with it. 

That feeling didn’t leave as they all fought to keep their lives. Echo’s arrival doesn’t worsen or improve her fears of what was to come, but she accepted her help in dispatching the Grounders with thankfulness. They needed the extra strength on their side. Her blade flashed through the air, whistling as it found its home in the bodies of the Grounders who attacked them. It was a viciousness of a woman who had chosen to live and not die, an emotion that Clarke found herself connecting with. 

Her spiraling worry only continued as she shakingly lifted her helmet off for Emori. In the exchange was a silent plea, not for forgiveness necessarily since it wasn’t hers to ask for, but an understanding that she was going to do whatever she could to help keep her alive.

“Neither am I,” she resolutely responded, sounding more confident than she’d thought she would.

Bellamy’s horrified expression hadn’t changed since she clicked the helmet off and passed it along. Her explanation to test Nightblood wasn’t enough for him. Not after the promise of that night when they’d come together finally. They were both on the list –– but this might completely derail that. She watched as his hands clenched, his jaw clicking in and out as he looked at her. She wanted to kiss each knuckle and slowly make it to his lips, breathing promises to him that she believed it would work. That she did this with every intention of still surviving this by his side. 

But she couldn’t do that, not without risking his life and exposing him. She could only rely on her eyes and pray that she was able to convince him. 

She wasn’t too successful in that hope though, as she began to cough up Nightblood just minutes after Monty and Harper’s arrival.

The sight of the black blood coating her gloves, dribbling down her chin, made her stagger in fear. That was what it took for Bellamy’s shield to break and he lunged forward to support her. 

Even with the rubber of the suits separating them, the warmth of Bellamy’s body flooded her with comfort even as she tried to not overthink the blood in her hand. A mumbled litany of promises that  _ she was going to make it out alive _ fell from Bellamy’s lips and Clarke barely caught the quick exchanges that the others shared with each other at the sight. 

The extra suit that had been for Jasper was a relief but she still ached to be back in Bellamy’s arms, even as they raced onward to Raven. 

She hadn’t meant for that wish to be granted by the arrival of Praimfaya, cutting off the radio for the final time with the bunker. 

Bellamy encased her, letting her sobs fall into his shoulders as his hands grasped her tightly to him. This time she didn’t have to worry about the helmets blocking them, her face buried into the crook of his neck while one of his hands rubbed gently on the back of her neck, the other splayed across her back. 

With the impending destruction of the Earth only hours away, her mom and the people she’d grown up with now trapped underground, Clarke realized that Bellamy was truly her only home left. 

She clung to him, only pulling away when Murphy called them away. 

It wasn’t for a lack of confidence in Bellamy’s feelings that kept her from spilling out the words she wanted to say to him. 

Even with the plague of death surrounding them, Clarke wasn’t convinced that there wasn’t a curse to her loving people. And with them being this close to making it up to space, she couldn’t bring herself to risk it. If it got too close to them failing then she would say those words to him. But for now, she swallowed them down. 

She didn’t even say them as the snow reflected on his helmet and he looked expectantly at her, demanding that she didn’t say for him to try to use his head right now. His own desperation was cracking through. They were hanging on by a thread right now. The Mountain, the list, everything was so small compared to this feeling.

“No. I was just going to say, hurry.” 

It was a desperate request and he immediately seemed to understand what she was trying to say. The words that were unspoken and instead masked by the one ––  _ hurry _ . 

_ Hurry _ because if she told him that she loved him now, that meant saying goodbye. 

_ Hurry _ because soon they’d have the chance to slow down, focus on just themselves and each other without the bloodshed to drown them. 

_ Hurry _ because she needed at least one more night in his arms and wanted eternity. 

_ Hurry _ because she loved him with her entire being and she needed both of them to be on that ship if she was going to make it.

She’d sent him to almost-death all that time ago in Mount Weather and separating from him now brought back that pain. Even though she wasn’t the one giving the orders right now, she still couldn’t bite back that feeling. She was determined that this would be the last time they would do this. 

It was that mantra that propelled her up the tower, the winds beginning to whip around her. Angry that she was still there, that she was still trying to fight back against nature as poisoned as it was. 

She grit her teeth, letting out a cry of rage as she fought with the machines that she didn’t understand but were their only hope. She wanted to throw them off the side in a fit of anger, but she held it together (just barely). The struggle almost broke her but she was able to finally achieve what Raven had tasked her to do. Her relief was palpable, but she also knew she’d taken longer than she was supposed to have.

Did she have enough room in her calculations for how long it would take to get back? Clarke sucked in her breath, turning to look behind her.

And saw the storm blooming on the horizon. Closer than it had been before, readying to overtake everything beneath it.

She was out of time. 

Nearly sliding down the rest of the way, she hit the ground hard and felt the shockwave tremble up her legs at impact. But that was a mere inconvenience as she began to run. She’d told Bellamy to hurry, but it looked like it was on her to heed her own advice.

The Earth was a clock, ticking violently as its minutes came to an end. She could feel the shuddering movement underneath her feet as she ran, Praimfaya bearing down on her. 

_ Tick. Tock. _

_ Tick. Tock. _

The ground hungered to swallow her whole. Winds roared around her and an inordinate amount of heat swirled in the air, flames licking at the trees and skipping across the ground toward her feet. Clarke’s heart burned with the strength it was taking to push herself forward. She’d never been the most in shape of anyone, in space or here. She shouldn’t be the one tasked with running back but here she was, using every bit of energy she had left to keep going.

She thought of Bellamy’s face as they’d split up and she kicked her speed up a notch. She hadn’t told him that she loved him, she couldn’t die now. She couldn’t die now when she had the chance to let Wanheda burn and Clarke come out again. To get the chance to begin anew with him by her side.

Her lungs screamed at her, only blocked out by the whistling of the ravaged forest behind her.

And then she fell.

The shattering of her helmet sends panic racing through her. She didn’t know she had anymore she could feel.

_ Bellamy’s hand tracing down her arm, goosebumps following in their wake. Kisses pressed to her hairline, feeling like home _ .

She scrambled to her feet. Awkward and clumsy, she almost didn’t get her balance right but then she righted herself and took off again. 

She wouldn’t give herself another option: she had to make it back to the ship in time. There was no time to even check her watch to see if she’ll make it. Nothing that can cause her to slow down and she’ll let her signal be the rocket bursting into the atmosphere be her sign that it was time to give up. Only then.

But the sky remained an empty, deadly shade of yellow, no rocket in sight as Becca’s house suddenly rose up on the skyline. Against the sickly hue, the white building was a beacon of hope and Clarke nearly sobbed at the glimpse of it. 

Her hand was still plastered to the helmet’s glass as if she had any hope of blocking the rising radiation levels from getting to her. Her skin was already prickling, a thousand knives poking at her as it fought against the Nightblood. There was a very good chance she was wrong and that she wasn’t safe, but the closer she got to the lab the less she cared. She was this close already. They called her the Commander of Death and today she would spare herself, of that she was positive. 

The trip down to the lab felt impossibly long. Especially since once she was inside, the sealed door silencing the sounds of the world outside. Somehow that was worse. The apocalypse would destroy them all and she wouldn’t even know when it was on the steps to the front door.

But then she burst out around the corner and everything came alive again. A rushing sound in her ears was accompanied by shouting. 

Familiar voices.

She slipped on the floor, ash, snow, and mud clinging to the bottom of her shoes.

“She’s here –– SHE’S HERE!”

“Hurry, we don’t have much time!”

It was hard for her to fully grasp what’s going on around her. The pain was excruciating, fire engulfing her nerves with every step she took forward. Figures were crawling out of the rocket as they hurried towards her. She distantly thought of the ants she’d discovered one day, in their early days at the Dropship, and how they’d hurried out of their hole. That was all she saw now, her vision spinning in and out of focus as she tried to meet the silhouetted figures halfway.

“Clarke, Clarke! Are you okay?”

“Shit, her helmet’s cracked!”

She thought that the second voice sounded like Murphy, then Emori’s voice swam into her ear as she said she could see the radiation spreading on her face. Far away, Raven’s voice echoed with a countdown warning.

Clarke thought, almost amusingly, to herself that she should tell them that it probably felt even worse than it looked.

But her mind was delirious now and she could smell death on her, almost making her panic at the thought of them touching her.  _ She’d spread it _ . Then someone stepped up right in front of her, his hands not sharing the same concern as her as they powerfully gripped her. There was no hesitation, no fear that somehow she’d pass along the radiation through her suit and into him. 

And her vision finally succumbed to darkness, Bellamy’s face the last thing she saw as she collapsed into his arms.

XXX

It took Clarke a moment to realize that she was awake. But whatever was above her was too bright, too artificial, so she kept her eyes scrunched tightly shut. An irrational thought sprung into her mind that maybe there was an afterlife and either she’d accidentally appeared in Heaven or Hell was much brighter than it had ever been depicted. 

Her thoughts from the brightness that was around her, fading out the darkness even behind her eyelids, were then deviated to the overwhelming sensation her body was experiencing.

Trapped, tangled up, in pain.

She began to squirm, thrashing against whatever it was that was on top of her. Her skin felt like it was on fire, tingling and prickling against the fabric on top of her.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

The low voice that washed over Clarke eased her franticness and she found herself opening her eyes and seeing Echo’s face swim into focus. 

The woman gave her a quirk of a smile, probably the first one Clarke had ever seen before from her. 

“You’ve been out for a couple days. Try not to move too much, your burns are still healing,” Echo instructed as she lifted up a canteen. 

Still trying to process everything, Clarke obediently took a long gulp of what turned out to be water. It was startling refreshing, clicking in the realization of how much her body must have gone through. When she’d had her fill, she nodded at Echo and she smiled again (Clarke would have to get used to that) and she rose up to standing position. It was then that Clarke was able to fully process everything around her. 

The material she’d been fighting only minutes ago was just a gray blanket –– one that she realized after a prolonged moment was the same standard one from the Ark. Her eyes traced the corrugated metal walls beside her, her hand instinctively reaching out and touching it. It was cool to the touch. But that was when she noticed her hand. The blanket fell by the wayside and her eyes widened as she took in an array of peeling and scabbing burns adorned across her skin. The red and yellow colors were stark against the muted grays that surrounded her.

She must have gasped out loud because Echo quickly said, “Trust me, it was worse when we first got here.”

“That’s––wow,” Clarke managed to mumble, her eyes drifting back to Echo, taking in new details. She was wearing normal clothes and her hair had been washed, even styled a bit differently than before. The harsh light of the room cast the faintest of deep circles under her eyes but overall she looked like she’d been able to take care of herself. Like she was alive and that…

“Wait, ‘got here’?” Clarke repeated slowly as it all registered to her. “We’re on the Ark?”

Echo’s smile grew more triumphant at that. 

“Raven pulled it off, even despite the delay on the ground. It was a rough go at first, but we somehow managed to get enough oxygen to get everything going again and here we are.” She cocked her head as she leaned against the wall. “It’s been almost a week. You’ll need to eat something soon, but we’re still working on that. Murphy’s in a coma.”

Clarke sputtered at that announcement, struggling to sit up on her elbows before hissing in pain and laying back down.

“A coma?” She asked weakly, trying to not panic.  _ She had some medical experience, she should be helping. She shouldn’t just be laying here. _

“He’ll be fine, Harper’s keeping a close eye on him,” Echo assured her. “The second batch should be better and less likely to put you on your ass. Monty started working once we saw that happen to Murphy.” 

Clarke managed to nod, trying to process everything. From the casualness of this conversation with a woman who had held a sword to her throat in the not-so distant past, to the idea that they were really on the Ark and Monty was making algae for them to live off of.

She hadn’t meant to laugh, and clearly Echo hadn’t been expecting it because she startled at Clarke’s broken laugh that bubbled up inside her.

They’d really done it.

They’d made it off of Earth in time.

“I can’t believe it,” she said breathlessly once her laugh subsided. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

Echo’s crooked smile returned. It was almost like a smirk, but without any need for bad blood between them, Clarke found that it actually suited her strong features.

“It’s like nothing I’d ever imagined, being up here in space.” Echo’s voice grew awe-inspired. “Emori’s adjusting too. Though Raven’s got her under her wing pretty well which is nice.”

Clarke swallowed deeply as Echo mentioned each name, despite the burn in her throat from the radiation. Regardless of what was happening on Earth, this group had made it and were working together to keep pushing. But now with full clarity in her mind, as awareness settled into her aching body, Clarke’s mind went to the most important person.

As she grew worried about the lack of mention of him, a nervously expectant expression growing on her face, Echo seemed to read her mind. Her head bobbed in a slight nod and she pushed herself off of the wall. 

“It was my turn to check on you, but I know he’s waiting anxiously for updates either way. I’ll go get him.”

And with that, she slipped out of the room. 

Clarke waited fretfully, her hands gripping the blanket tightly in her hands. Despite the pain at how firm her grip was, her white-knuckles contrasted against the angry red burns on her skin, she couldn’t let go. Not until she got to see his face.

It was impossible to tell if he arrived faster than she expected or if time had moved slower as she waited, dragging out the one thing she truly wanted right now.

But then a spot of black curls appeared in the doorway, followed by broad shoulders and then all of Bellamy was standing in her room. It hadn’t even been that long since she’d last seen him, and she’d been out cold for all of it, but that didn’t stop the cry of relief falling from her lips at the sight of him. He seemed to echo her sentiment, striding across the room in seconds to be by her side. It was only once he was there that he slowed down, his movements becoming cautious as he gently sat down on the edge of the bed as if he didn’t want to hurt her. 

“Hey,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Hi,” she whispered back. He looked anxious, but otherwise healthy and she began to feel relieved. Similar to Echo, he had faint half-circles under his eyes but looked like he was adjusting to life on here. She hoped he’d been able to get some good sleep.

It wasn’t until she looked closer at his face that she noticed the faint stubble.

“That’s new,” she said with a smile, nodding towards his face. He seemed confused at first and then raised a hand to his cheek, letting out a rumble of laughter as his hand brushed against the beginnings of the beard.

“I honestly had forgotten about it. I wasn’t even trying to grow it, I’ve just been distracted with you being out.” His expression grew more concerned at the end of his words, frowning. “How are you feeling?”

Clarke looked down at her hands. Catching the way her eyes zeroed in on the sores that now decorated her body, Bellamy’s hand slowly extended into view as he gently wove his fingers between hers.

“I’m not sure if Echo mentioned it, but they did look worse. You’re getting better, Harper said she’s seeing daily improvements.” 

A tear caught in the corner of Clarke’s eyes. Her friends were so focused on her well-being that it made her emotional. After everything they’d all been through together, the good and the bad, they had a new task together and that was to survive.

She nodded at his words, looking back up at him. “Well in that case, I suppose I’m as good as I could be. Even better really. We made it.”

A relieved smile cracked open on Bellamy’s face. 

“We did. You almost––you almost didn’t make it. But I’m so proud of you, you made it back.”

His words brought back the memory of how she’d raced against time to make it back to them. The way she’d felt Praimfaya encroaching on her, threatening to swallow her whole. It was almost a blur of a memory with how much she’d had to rely on pure adrenaline to get back. And then how her last memory before passing out had been the same face that was now staring earnestly back at her. 

“I thought of you to help make it back,” she confessed quickly. His eyebrows shot up at that. “I wanted to live for myself of course, but knowing you were there… waiting… I had to make it back to you. I want us to have each other now that we can.”

While their time in Mount Weather had felt like she had buried herself, Praimfaya felt like she’d burned it all away. Despite the aches and pains that were beginning to settle into her bones the longer she was awake, she felt something else. Cleansed, free. She was able to shed that version of herself that had formed while they had been down on Earth. And that included holding back what she felt for Bellamy –– what she had felt for him for so long.

There wasn’t a need for her to hold it back anymore. 

“I know we’ve both been through so much, and after Lexa…” her voice cracked before she could continue, “I just know that it’s not worth waiting to act on feelings. And I’ve––I’ve waited so long with you. Refusing to acknowledge what I felt for you and always pushing it down because there was too much going on.”

Bellamy waited patiently as she talked and she was almost unable to maintain eye contact with him, watching as a storm of emotion took over his eyes. The affection in his eyes was overwhelming and as much as a tiny voice told her she didn’t deserve to be looked at like that, she knew what she wanted and she was going to get it all off of her chest. That little voice was wrong and was overpowered by feelings much more powerful and the longer she spoke, the more confident she became. 

“When you talked about Mount Weather, the guilt I was feeling was more than just that I sent you in there. I told you that I was being weak for not ordering you to do it. I only did that”  _ here she began to cry  _ “because I’d been told that love was a weakness. And that when I realized it wasn’t just me wanting to lose my co-leader, I couldn’t lose you. And Earth doesn’t have room for those attachments so I sent you in there, rather than acknowledge that I loved you.”

Clarke sucked in a shuddering breath, pausing Bellamy with a gentle hand to his chest as he opened his mouth to speak.

“When I saw you there, underneath it all with Octavia, I felt a relief I didn’t know was possible. I had you go through all of that because I couldn’t admit that I love you but now we’re so far from all of that and I just need you to know––”

Bellamy surged forward and kissed her. 

It was brief, his concern for her burns holding him back from truly conveying his emotions physically. But even for how fleeting it was, she still felt him pour every ounce of emotion into it. Just as her lips began to tingle too much though, he pulled back just a breath and rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you too, Clarke Griffin.”

She couldn’t tell if she let out a sigh or a cry or laugh of relief. If she could scrape every wound off of herself so that she could collapse into his arms, she’d do it in a heartbeat. But having him here with her, while they were on the Ark, was enough.

“You were right you know,” she murmured into his ear after a long moment of peace. 

He hummed in curiosity, unsure of what she was referring to.

“I was still breathing when I ran to the rocket, so I still had hope.” Emotion swelled up in him and she watched as his eyes began to sparkle with unshed tears. 

“I always knew you were going to make it,” he choked out. “I wanted to stay, but you’d told me to use my head. Thank you for not making me decide.”

She chuckled softly. “I told you that I wasn’t going to let you suffer anymore, I feel like me dying would defeat that purpose.”

“Well,” he began as he shifted forward to help pull her hair off of her face. It was sweaty from what must have been a fever and she had to remind herself that he’d seen her in every state at this point. “I think that’s a good philosophy, and one we’re going to be able to follow pretty easily here now that we’re on the Ring.” 

He was right. They were here now, away from the destruction of the Earth and life in the bunker. And as much as Clarke wished they all had been able to make it back to the bunker in time, there was something to be said about the possibilities that lay in wait for them here in space. A chance to grow as an entire group, but also a chance for her and Bellamy to let what they had begun to fully blossom. 

But that would be a thought for tomorrow, the cursory waking time still difficult on Clarke despite her time passed out.

Bellamy caught her yawn, even as she tried to stifle it.

“You should get some sleep,” he instructed affectionately. It was a different tone than that night with the list, but the memory of what had followed it made Clarke feel like she was already dreaming.

“Can you stay with me?” She countered softly, looking up at him with what she hoped were coaxing eyes.

He bit his lip in contemplation, weighing the possibility of aggravating her injuries. But it must have been a short-lived debate in his mind because soon enough he was scooting her over. She smiled widely as his larger form joined her, cocooning her against the wall. Even with the few twinges of pain as they situated themselves, she felt overcome with ardor. The heat radiating from Bellamy brought to her a vision of the sun, a different heat than the one that had nearly taken it with her. Instead of decay, he radiated life and she felt the frosty shields she’d put up over time, that had begun to already fissure, then fully melt away. She turned into his chest as a flower to the sun, basking the warmth that he reminded her was still inside her. 

In another world, in the absence of his faith in her, she wasn’t sure what path she would follow. If she’d have spiraled beyond her control into something that wasn’t her. But the potential seed of that had been incinerated in Praimfaya.

Here, she was still breathing. Here on the Ark, she still had hope for the future. And Clarke knew that no matter what would come their way when they returned to Earth, they’d face it as one. 

**Author's Note:**

>  **where else you can find me:** [Tumblr](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/the_river_held) | [my carrd](https://she-who-the-river-could-not-hold.carrd.co/)


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